Leftover Alphabet Soup
by Akira43
Summary: A series of oneshots written by me Akira43 , Ninja C, and Tassel 630. No chapter connections, no pairings--merely attempts to amuse and entertain ourselves both ourselves and our readers. Continuation of A Collab of Alphabetical Proportions
1. Rules and Guidelines

**Leftover Alphabet Soup**

**Hello, Readers! Welcome to _Leftover Alphabet Soup_, a series of fics written by Ninja C, Tassel630, and me, Akira43. Sound familiar? If you've read _A Collab of Alphabetical Proportions_ (ACOAP) it should. After finishing it, we were all kinda disappointed that it was over. So, we decided to do it again! If you haven't read the original, don't worry about--you'll understand why in a moment (refer to #4).**

Rules/Guidelines:

1) There will be one chapter for each letter of the alphabet, including an extra chapter at the end to make the total number of chapters to be written divisible by 3.

2) At the end of each chapter, the author of that chapter will "tag" someone else. Unlike in ACOAP, no one can tag themselves.

3) After "tagging" the next person, the author of that chapter will also choose the title for the next chapter. For example, I would choose the word "Apple" for the letter A, which would become the title and the topic of that chapter.

4) Readers may suggest words to be used as future chapter titles, although the author is not obligated to choose one of the suggestions.

5) Each chapter must be able to stand by itself and cannot relate to a previous chapter (same as it was last time).

6) Updating: There will be one chapter posted during the week and one chapter posted each weekend. (_Last time the goal was to post one chapter a day, and that didn't work out too well--we kept getting way behind on posting the chapters and on homework because we were too busy actually writing the chapters. So hopefully the posting schedule will work out better this time.) **Update 5/3/09: We have given up on trying to stick to a schedule for updates. Life is just too demanding for that.**  
_

**Oh, yeah, and the chapters won't be posted under Ninja C's account anymore either (obviously). So if you haven't read ACOAP and would like to, don't go looking for it under my profile--go to hers.**

**Questions or comments? Feel free to let us know. Otherwise, enjoy the first chapter of _Leftover Alphabet Soup_!**

**-Akira43, Ninja C, and Tassel630**


	2. Apple

**Leftover Alphabet Soup**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Maximum Ride, would I really be lacking in money to spend on books like I am right now?**

A is for: Apple  
_By Akira43_

"Oof!" My breath let out in a puff as Fang landed on top of me, pinning me to the ground. We had been sparring, and now he had won. He grinned smugly down at me, and I rolled my eyes. At least, I _was_ rolling my eyes, until I realized that our position was a bit more…awkward than usual.

"Um, Fang?" I asked him pointedly. "Do you think you could maybe move your hands?"

His grin faded as he stared at me, confused. He glanced down at where he was resting his hands, then whipped his head back up to look at me again, horrified at having discovered the fact that his hands were placed right smack dab in the middle of my breasts.

"Uh, yeah," I said again, assuring him that our position really was just as awkward as he was thinking. He looked down at his hands again and then back up at me once more, dumbstruck, until he finally came to his senses and leaped off of me.

I snickered at his expression. There was no way I'd ever let him live this down, and he knew it.

As Fang wheeled away from me, unfurling his wings and leaping into the sky, I gladly took it upon myself to remind him of his daily health tip.

"You know what they say, Fang," I yelled at his retreating form. "An apple a day keeps the doctor away!"

And I swear to this day that I have never, ever seen Fang's face as red as it was that afternoon.

**A/N: So there you have it, the first chapter in our newest collab. With any luck you're not scared away by it. Next up will be Ninja C, with "B is for Because," to be posted sometime during the week.**

**Feel free to read and review, and start suggesting words to be used for letters C-Z!**


	3. Because

**Leftover Alphabet Soup**

**A/N: So it's been a while since I've written anything un-Max Ride-related. Well, TOO BAD, SUCKAHS, 'cause I'm here to stay. For now, anyway. I hope I get this fic right; it's been twenty-something days since I updated anything.**

**-looks back at that statement shaking head in disgust-**

**Oh, God, I have fucked-up priorities.**

**Disclaimer: I know you **_**thought**_** I was James Patterson, but surprisingly, I'm NOT. I don't own any of this. –jaw drop-**

B is for: Because  
_By Ninja C_

"Fang," Max called before she entered the bathroom in the mall. Fang trotted over from where he, Gazzy, and Iggy were waiting while the girls went.

"Get us a funnel cake, 'kay?"

Fang looked at Max. "…_What_?" he finally said.

"Get us a funnel cake. You know, one of those big, sugary ones?" Max used hand gestures to demonstrate.

"Why?"

"Because I said so, Fang," Max said, and then darted into the restroom with the girls. Fang resignedly slouched off to the food court.

When he returned to the rest of the flock, Nudge and Angel had persuaded Max and the others to let them wander about the mall. Together, of course, as Max had insisted.

It actually ended up that Iggy and Gazzy decided to go to a hardware store, where they were instructed not to buy anything, and for the love of God to NOT SET OFF ANY ALARMS. This left Fang, who could care less about hardware, with the girls.

Where did Angel and Nudge want to go first? Limited Too. Of course. Fang looked back in the direction of the hardware place, regretting his choice.

"Hey!" Max called from the entrance of Hell. "Come on! You've gotta help me rein in the girls!"

"So they can't buy any fancy new clothes, eh?" Fang asked, striding into the store.

"We can _not_ afford to carry anything else, Fang," Max replied.

"Why? They can wear clothes _on their backs_."

"Because I said so!" Max stomped away to where Nudge was trying to enter a fitting room carrying at least twenty articles of clothing.

Fang sighed and began to tail Angel.

After another hour in Not-So-Limited Too, Iggy and Gazzy joined up with the rest of the flock, and they picked up Total and Akila. (The dogs had been left in the park. Usually, this would not settle with Total, but Akila was there, so there was no need to fear mutilation.)

Max held Total in her arms and Iggy had Akila, but right before the flock took off, Angel's shoe magically became untied. Max immediately turned to Fang.

"Hold Total, will ya?"

Fang took the dog, but not without an unnecessary "Why should I, oh leader?"

Max grabbed Fang by the shirt collar. "_BECAUSE I SAID SO,_" she said through gritted teeth, and then bent down to tie the bungled laces.

"Whipped," Iggy muttered to Fang.

"Shut up," Fang growled back as they finally became airborne.

"Why?" Iggy snidely asked.

"Because I said so, dammit!"

**A/N: Oh my god, the failure is crushing me. The end was obvious, the entire premise boring. It's obvious that I should not write past midnight. What a way to debut my part of this fic. Wait… I mean… **_**re**_**-debut… or something… whatever.**

**Tassel, you've got C is for Chivalry this weekend.**


	4. Chivalry

**Leftover Alphabet Soup**

**A/N: Guess who made a big fat mistake? Tassel did, that's who. (This is Tassel, by the way, just speaking in third person.) Y'see, Ninja C submitted B on Friday, when I had no school, and therefore my brain categorized it as WEEKEND. So I thought I had to submit C sometime this week. I labored under this happy impression until Akira got fed up and emailed me saying something along the lines of "WHERE THE CRAP IS YOUR CHAPTER?!" At which point I went, "OH, CRAPPERDOODLES." So. Here it is. With my apologies.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own this disclaimer. And I really don't want to, considering how lame it is.**

C is for: Chivalry  
_By Tassel630_

"I have to go to the bathroom," Nudge complained.

"Right," I said. "Bathroom break. 'Kay, there's a clump of trees over there – "

"Max," Angel interrupted, looking up at me with pleading eyes, "can we please go to a real bathroom? Please? We're in the middle of a big city…"

"A grove of trees might actually be better than a city bathroom, hon," I told her.

"But what if we went to a library bathroom or something?" Nudge pressed.

"They would have toilets! Ones that _flush_!" Gazzy interjected enthusiastically. It was his excitement that got me. How many eight-year-olds have you heard get that thrilled about flush toilets?

"Okay, fine," I said, pushing aside my misgivings – the ones about how bathrooms usually had enclosed stalls, low ceilings, no windows, and only one exit. "We'll stop at the first mostly-empty place we come to."

We soon found one; a quiet little coffee shop next to an empty field. Only two customers were inside.

I started climbing the short flight of stairs, but suddenly Fang was in front of me, blocking the door. For a second I thought he was trying to stop us from entering the shop, and I tensed, searching for a hairy, elongating face – but no, he was… opening the door? _What?_

I froze. Fang was wearing a tiny shadow of a smile as he gestured for me to walk into the coffee shop. Doesn't sound that difficult, right?

Okay, self. Option One: internally gush about how sweet and thoughtful it was of Fang to open a door for me. Yeah right, I was never even going to _consider_ that option. Mostly.

Option Two: incline head in acknowledgement of door-opening and walk into shop with composure.

"I see that chivalry isn't dead, after all," Total commented from behind me.

I went with Option Three: I socked Fang in the face.

"I am perfectly capable of opening a door for myself, thank you!" I informed him, before stepping into the shop with my head held high.

_Chivalry is dead now, Total. I just killed it._

**A/N: Hmm, didn't turn out quite as funny as I'd hoped, but oh well. Your next chapter will happily be delivered by Akira43, who will title it _Disobedience_.**

**Oh, and P.S., your suggestions for future chapter titles are greatly appreciated. Feel free to get elaborate with them, as long as every word starts with the target letter.**

**Over and out, Tassel630.**


	5. Disobedience

**Leftover Alphabet Soup**

**A/N: So I'm alive. Barely. I think. Ninja C beat me up (she's at my house (dun ask) and is dictating half of this note) for taking so long to post this, and procrastinating. And um, yeah, she won't shut up and let me give my excuse for why it's been pratically a month since "we" last updated. Which is because I'm overstressed lately. And apparently now braindead. Anyways, here is D (finally) and it will probably be the longest chapter in this collab. Just 'cause.**

**Disclaimer: I think Ninja C stole the rights to Maximum Ride from me, because I can't find them. Or the remote.**

D is for: Disobedience  
_By Akira43_

Jeb Batchelder walked as fast as he could without running through the maze of hallways, nervously glancing around as he went. It was supposed to be the most important meeting of the year and he was late. Very late. One hour, twenty-three minutes, and forty seconds late, to be exact. Hopefully no one would mind too much—they knew he had a harder time making it to the meetings since he was watching over the kids. They shouldn't mind too much.

Hopefully.

Jeb reached the large conference room and opened the door slowly, expecting to hear the awkward silence that usually followed an unexpected entrance during the middle of a meeting, and the rustle of fabric as everyone turned to see who it was. But it was silent—even the door was noiseless on its well-oiled hinges.

He slowly entered the room and was surprised to see that the room wasn't actually as empty as its silence implied. The director sat at the large, round conference table facing the door, her hands folded and legs crossed with the guise of patient anticipation.

"Glad you could join me, Dr. Batchelder," she said coolly, and motioned for Jeb to sit down. "I hope the traffic wasn't too terrible on your way over."

"No, not too bad, thank you," Jeb said, nervously clearing his throat. He paused for a moment, scanning the empty room before deciding to ask the question gnawing at him. "Did…did I—"

"No, Dr. Batchelder, you did not miss the meeting," the Director answered his half-finished question, smiling ruefully. "In fact, it's only just begun."

Jeb couldn't hide his perplexion, and the director laughed superficially. "I see you made a mistake in your assumptions when I told you about this meeting last week. You assumed that when I told you it was the most important meeting of the year that it was the most important meeting for the _whole facility_, when in fact I never said such a thing. No, when I said that it was the most important meeting of the year, Dr. Batchelder, I meant for _you_."

Jeb had opened his mouth to respond partway through this explanation, but by the end he had completely forgotten what he had wanted to say. Instead he just sat there gaping, only remembering to try to compose himself after several seconds had passed. It was several more seconds before he was able to string enough words together to request an explanation.

"Your role in the latest stage of our Avian-Hybrid experiment is absolutely unique, and also essential to success of the experiment as a whole," the Director began without preamble. "You have done an exceptional job executing it as well, and I am convinced there is not another scientist in this facility that could have done a more exemplary job."

Jeb smiled politely. "Thank you for the compliment, Director; you flatter me. Although I'm not sure I heard you correctly. Did you say '_could_ have done'?"

"I assure you that your hearing is just fine, Dr. Batchelder," the Director replied, tight-lipped. "This stage is being terminated earlier than scheduled. New plans have been made, previous decisions overruled. I'm sure you understand."  
"I'm afraid I don't."

The Director sighed, looking tired and worn out now that she had relaxed her professional façade. Jeb saw for the first time in years the more familiar human side of the woman who had graduated at the very top of their high school class.

"Jeb, you're a great guy, and you've done a great job raising those kids and teaching them how to survive on their own in the real world. That was one of the most important and most fragile steps in this whole experiment. But other people, people who only _pretend_ to understand things, people who have _power_, well, they don't see things the same way. Some of the things you've taught these kids—or if you didn't teach them, at least _allowed_ them to learn—they consider to be, well, just outright dangerous."

Comprehension dawned on Jeb, mixed with an equal amount of dread. "Oh. They're upset about the bombs, aren't they?"

She nodded slowly, hesitant to agree. "That's part of it. But there's also…" She paused, trying to find the right words.

Jeb waited for her, outwardly patient, but on the inside his gut was twisted in anxiety. "You can just say it," he prompted.

The Director sighed again, looking even more tired. "Things have changed, Jeb. _You_'ve changed. And lately, it seems that you've begun to let your job run _you_ instead of you running _it_."

At that moment, any hope Jeb still had that the whole situation was just a prank, or a bluff designed to make the situation worse than it really was, disappeared. It was all gone, gone like a bird that had flown beyond the horizon. He knew what she meant. The missed meetings, the late reports, negligence of his usual duties, all set aside because he was too busy with the kids. He knew it would come back to bite him one day—he just hadn't expected it to be so soon. And the Director's next words only drove the knife even deeper into his heart.

"Today was supposed to be a final chance," she said quietly, not looking at him. "I asked—no, _begged_—the higher-ups to give you one last chance, one last opportunity to show you could still be relied upon."

She looked up slowly, and the anguish was clear in her eyes. "That was today, Jeb. Today was that last chance. You were _supposed_ to think that this was a big meeting for everyone. They wanted to see if you really _would_ drop everything to show up on time if it was important enough. But you didn't. You were late—again. And now I'm out of options."

The Director cleared her throat and tried to regain a semblance of professional indifference as she delivered his sentence, the final consequence of his actions.

"Dr. Batchelder, you are hereby on probation from the Itex Corporation for the duration of two years. During this time you are forbidden to participate in any ongoing or initiated research projects. You may not influence these projects in any manner. You are permitted on Itex property during office hours only, and only when you have been given explicit instructions to be present. You will be supervised at all times to ensure that your actions are in compliance with these parameters."

Jeb stood as he prepared to leave, his face carefully blank to conceal his broken emotions. "Is that all?" he asked in a monotone voice.

The Director looked up to meet his gaze, her own face as equally devoid of emotion. "Yes, Dr. Batchelder. That is all. You are dismissed."

"Then I will gather a few things from my office and return to my old quarters." Jeb turned and began to leave, but was stopped just as he put his hand on the door.

"Jeb," the Director said softly, "maybe…maybe in a few years you can see them again. I'll see what I can do."

Jeb smiled sadly to himself, not turning around. "Thank you," he said, filling those two words with all the gratitude he was feeling, then walked out of the room.

He nodded absentmindedly to his colleagues as he navigated the hallways to his long-abandoned office. He wasn't going back home this time. The kids would never know what happened to him. They would think he was dead, and the mere thought of what their devastation would be was enough to bring tears to his eyes.

He had been disobedient, and his disobedience had cost him. As he passed the mirrored windows along the hall, his reflection stared back at him, a broken man.

**A/N: And Tassel630 will be typing E is for Everlasting Eggs (credit to lalaland for suggesting eggs--thanks!). This will hopefully be soon, since Ninja C calculated that we're supposed to be on K. Although Tassel _is_ on vacation... this could be bad.**

**Oh, and we really need suggestions for G. And we'll probably need them for at least up to K, for now. It will help us get caught up faster, so please, please, please start spewing random words. Thank you.**


	6. Everlasting Eggs

**Leftover Alphabet Soup**

**A/N: Well, no worries everyone - E is here! And (gasp) not late! Well, it sort of is. But it's as not-late as it's possible to be!**

**Disclaimer: Wouldn't it be easier to just put one huge disclaimer on the whole site so we didn't have to bother with these?**

E is for: Everlasting Eggs  
_By Tassel630_

"Three... Two... One... Ready or not, here I come!" I shouted. I opened my eyes and looked around carefully. There didn't seem to be any obvious hiding places in the kitchen besides the cupboards, through which I quickly rifled without really expecting to find anyone. My flock was more creative than that. I thought.

Nudge I found relatively easily because she was giggling, curled up under her bed. "What's so funny?" I asked her. She shook her head, her eyes shining, and stuffed her fist into her mouth to keep from laughing. She glanced above me for a split second, and I followed her gaze, looking up.

Angel was on the ceiling.

At my expression, Nudge gave up trying to stifle her laughter and fell to the floor, tears streaming down her cheeks. Angel smiled angelically at me. No pun intended.

"Sweetie... how did you get up there?" I asked. Or rather, how was she staying up there? Her wings were folded neatly into her back.

"It was easy," she said, grinning down at me. She was only a foot or two above me, in the corner beside the door. "I just push my hands against this wall and my feet against the other wall, and I don't fall." She dropped down and landed gracefully on her feet. "You weren't supposed to give me away," she added reproachfully to Nudge, still on the floor.

The Gasman was also easy to find, since he was standing right out in the open.

"Uh, Gasser, you do understand the point of hide-and-seek, don't you?"

He ignored my question. "Look what I found!" he said, holding out a handful of yellow mush. I tried to look only mildly revolted.

"Um... what is it?"

"Eggs!" he told me enthusiastically. "Scrambled eggs!" I made them with Jeb ages ago! They're, like, some sort of camping food or something, and the box said that they were everlasting! So I hid some of them for later, but then I couldn't find them!"

Jeb had died over a year ago. So these eggs were over a year old. Lovely.

"Gazzy, I'm not entirely sure..."

Too late. They had already disappeared.

It was an action we all came to regret. Supposedly-everlasting eggs plus Gasman equals definitely-everlasting gas.

**A/N: Now, wasn't this much more productive than actually paying attention in math class would've been? Next chapter will be Ninja C with F: Fang Finds Fire Fun. Mwahahahaha.**


	7. Fang Finds Fire Fun

**Leftover Alphabet Soup**

**A/N: Akira, I miss you. And Pride and Prejudice. ;D (We watched it FIVE TIMES.)**

**Also, I have come up with a BUH-RILLIANT scene involving two characters from the books I'm writing (neither of them is the main one, though). It's actually turned out really well, and I'm so excited about it that I'm debating putting it up somewhere, or at least showing a few select people. Whaddya think?**

**Disclaimer: Great. First I find out I don't own Mr. Darcy, and then I don't own Fang, either?! You've gotta be kidding me.**

F is for: Fang Finds Fire Fun  
_By Ninja C_

A Poem

(By Fang)

What I learned today in my exploits with Iggy and Gazzy:

Fiery fabric

Usually

Nettles Nudge

**A/N: It's sad when the author's note is longer than the fic.**

**Akira, you've got G is for Groupies. Soon.**


	8. Groupies

**Leftover Alphabet Soup**

**A/N: Hola, Akira here. Is it sad that Ninja C had to explain to me what a groupie was so that I understood the concept well enough to write about it? I thought so.**

**Disclaimer: Yesterday I bought a really awesome pair of boots (that I am wearing) on sale for dirt cheap. Unfortunately, the rights to Maximum Ride weren't on sale too.**

G is for: Groupies  
_By Akira43_

I get twitchy when I'm tense. I get tense when I'm in a situation that I don't like, such as when we're ina busy restaurant, or when we've stayed in one place for more than a few days. I also get tense whenever Nudge uses her Bambi eyes to get me to take everyone to a mall for a few hours to go window shopping.

I really wish I could develop immunity from that look.

So here I was in the middle of a mall somewhere in the continental United States, trying to keep track of everyone while they ran around and looked through all the stores. Nudge and Angel were squeeing with delight as they tried on all kinds of jewelry, while Fang kept an eye on Angel to make sure she didn't misuse her mind control abilities, while Gazzy and Iggy were in the store across from them, looking at salon products. (I didn't even want to know what they planned to use those for). At least, I _thought_ Iggy had been with him.

"Uh, Fang? Have you seen Ig?" I called out.

Fang wandered over to me, scanning the immeadiate area along the way. I could tell from his expression that he didn't see Iggy either, and was becoming as worried as I was.

"He was right behind me when we left the restroom a few minutes ago," he told me.

"Yeah, well, that was a few minutes ago, wasn't it?" I snapped, having no patience in the middle of a crisis.

Fang lock eyes with me, and his gaze immediately helped me to relax. How he did that I had no idea, but it had always worked. "We'll find him," he reassured me, and I nodded numbly.

"Yo, Max, Fang!"

I spun away from Fang's gaze towards where the familiar voice had come from.

"Iggy!" I cried out in relief, then immeadiately began scolding him. "Where the he-eck did you go?!" I demanded, barely remembering to watch my language near the younger kids. "We couldn't find you anywhere! Do you have any idea—"

"About how worried you were?" he asked sardonically. "No, not really. I'm not you. But really, you don't have to panic. Just chill—I've got friends who can help me out."

I noticed for the first time the hoarde of girls surrounding him. "Uh, Ig?" I asked, momentarily forgetting about how angry I was at him. "Who exactly _are_ these 'friends' of yours?"

"These," Iggy said, gesturing around him, "are my groupies."

"Your groupies?"

"Yeah. You know, like fangirls."

Fang raised an eyebrow and I rolled my eyes. Fangirls were the absolute last thing I needed to deal with right now.

"Fangirls? Cool!" the Gasman said, coming up behind us. "Can I have some groupies too?"

"Gazzy, I don't think—"

"Of course you can," Iggy interrupted me. He whispered something to the girls standing on his left, and half of them broke away and surrounded Gazzy instead.

"Aw man, this is _so cool_!"

_Glad to see you're enjoying yourself_ I scoffed silently. I turned to Fang to see what his reaction was to everything, only to find…not Fang.

Of course, I immeadiately proceeded to freak out, but relaxed as soon as I spotted him talking quietly to Iggy. After a minute or so, they shook hands, and Fang started to head back over to me.

I couldn't help but notice the two (red-haired) girls flanking him on either side.

"Jealous?" he asked me, grinning smugly.

I answered him with a punch in the gut.

**A/N: Is there anyone who thinks Fang didn't deserve that? Anyone at all? No? All right then.**

**Ninja C, please please please don't kill me for this out of spite, but I'm going to give H is for: Hogwarts to Tassel. (Many many thanks to Flower K. Owl for this suggestion, especially because right now I'm too brain dead to come up with any ideas of my own)**


	9. Hogwarts

**Leftover Alphabet Soup**

**A/N: Oh, hey, I'm supposed to be typing this up, aren't I? Right, knew that.**

**Dislcaimer: To be honest, I'd rather have wings than own Max Ride. Unfortunately, I have neither.**

**H is for: Hogwarts**  
_By Tassel630_

I shot past the leader, hurtling toward my destination. He gave a shout of rage and leaned forward, accelerating... My heart hammering with adrenaline, I pushed my wings faster, pouring on the speed. Only another 500 yards... 200... 50 –

"GYAH!" I screamed as a loud buzzer erupted above my head.

"Calm down, Max," Ella muttered into her pillow as she rolled over and smacked the alarm clock into silence.

I tried to calm down my breathing as I relaxed my fighting stance and folded my half-unfurled wings. Alarm clocks are not a good idea for someone as paranoid as me.

Far too awake to go back to sleep now, I crept out of Ella's room and into the kitchen, passing Mom on her way to re-awaken Ella for school. Fang, the Gasman, and Iggy were already in the kitchen.

"Downside number one of visiting Mom: alarm clocks," I growled as I took the muffin and plate of eggs Iggy offered me. "Downside number two: reading Ella's books gives me really weird dreams."

"Upsides," Fang cut in. "Food, shelter, safety – "

"Downside number three: Fang speaks," I muttered. Who knew that Fang actually opened his mouth occasionally with proper nourishment?

"What was your dream, Max?" the Gasman asked, blond hair pointing in every direction.

I took a bite of muffin. "Some funky thing about going to Hogwarts and racing the Gryffindor Quiddich team," I said. Fang raised an eyebrow. "And I almost won, too!" I added.

"What's a Hogwarts?" Gazzy asked.

"A school," I told him through a mouth full of muffin.

"Ugh. That sounds even worse than The School."

"No, Gazzy, it's a good place," I said.

He wrinkled his nose. "Then why would they name it after a muddy animal and a skin condition?"

I sighed. "You'll have to read the book."

"No, thanks. I'd rather not read a book about a school for itchy pigs."

I let my face fall into my plate of eggs.

**A/N: Mwahaha! Ninja C will bring you the next installment of Leftover Alphabet Soup, I is for Iggy Ignited!**


	10. Iggy Ignited

**Leftover Alphabet Soup**

**A/N: Hey… remember that time when I existed?**

**Disclaimer: It's been too long.**

I is for: Iggy Ignited  
_By Ninja C_

Just another normal day in the flock household.

And we all know what that entails.

I strutted – yes, I admit it – down the hall. It was just before lunchtime, and I had successfully woken up Gazzy. The mention of food seemed to me to be the ticket.

I was actually heading for Iggy's room, one door past mine, but I noticed a flood of light streaming from under my open door. As I peered around the jamb with furrowed eyebrows, something flew through the air and hit me in the face. "_OWWW!_" I looked down to see what had clocked me.

It was my watch. (Get it? Watch, clocked - oh, never mind.)

A muffled oath issued from my cracked door, and who should come out holding a pile of indistinguishable junk… but Iggy.

"_Ig?!_" I screeched. "Why the hell are you in my room?!"

Iggy shut the door smartly. "Well, I'm not anymore," he said hurriedly. He snatched my watch from me. "Later, Max."

Jeb didn't spend two years training me for nothing. I grabbed Iggy's arm before he could move two feet. He dropped what he was holding. "_Tell me_," I said deathly.

"Uh, I, er - "

I looked down before he could finish, and gasped in astonishment. A mass of technology was now piled in the middle of the hall.

"What the _hell_, Ig?!" I whirled on him. "A _bomb_? In my _room?!_"

Iggy's sightless eyes darted to and fro, like they always did when he was under pressure.

"I'm disassembling this," I said, relinquishing the pyromaniac. Muttering to myself, I peered at all the differently-colored wires, twirling among several things I recognized as belonging to other members of the flock.

At a loss for where to start, I ripped out a wire attached to Nudge's curling iron. Immediately, dark smoke began to fizzle from it.

Iggy sniffed. "Oh, my god," he moaned. "Did you touch the green wire?"

"Yeah…" I drawled, looking at the chartreuse wire clutched in my fist.

Iggy swore, but I pretended not to hear it. "That's the time wire!" he shouted. "The bomb was supposed to get those moles who always dig through my section of the lawn! The watch was supposed to be the timer! Since it's not on the bomb, who knows when it'll - "

Iggy ran outside screaming, his hair aflame.

Fang peeked his head around the corner, taking in the destruction in the hall. I couldn't help but think that if Jeb were still here, he'd flip. "Any particular reason Iggy's head is in flames?"

"Don't ask."

**A/N: Sorry, guys. This is why I can never be a published author; every time something goes that ***_**leetle**_*** bit wrong, I stop living.**

**On a side note, JUST FINISHED THE MORTAL INSTRUMENTS SERIES. And OH MY GOD. I am a freaking **_**psychic**_**!**

**Anyway. Tassel gets J for Jabberwock. Make it frabjous.**

**(And gimme back my iPod.)**


	11. Jabberwock

**Leftover Alphabet Soup**

**A/N: SCHOOL'S OUT! I LOVE YOU, SUMMER!**

**There is an excuse as to why this wasn't up sooner, but I don't think you guys care, so I won't waste your time. Hopefully updates will be coming faster over the summer.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned either Max Ride or Jabberwocky, I would run in circles screaming, "Callooh! Callay!"**

J is for: Jabberwock  
_By Tassel630_

"Alright, guys," I said, looking around threateningly. "Remember, no funny business while she's here. I don't want any abnormal, non-human activities going on - no talking dog, no bird kids, no hairy-mutants-trying-to-kill-us talk. And no bombs. We are going to be entirely average."

Total looked put out. "Why is J.J. coming over again?" Iggy asked, disappointed at the impending lack-of-bombs.

"Because my English teacher assigned us a group project, and we have to work on it out of class." I would have preferred for no one to know the location of Anne's house, but on the other hand, visiting someone else's house alone always screamed "trap possibility." So I voted to stick with my flock.

"You sure you don't need anything, Max?" Anne asked, looking anxious.

"Nah. Give us the kitchen table and some markers and we'll be fine." Why a high school teacher would assign a project requiring art supplies was beyond me. "It's not that hard, anyway. We just have to do a little analysis of the poem, and then we have to illustrate it." My life just kept throwing surprises at me. One day, beating the pulp out of Erasers; the next, illustrating poetry.

The doorbell rang. "I got it!" Gazzy screamed, launching himself down the remaining seven steps with his wings half open and skidding to a stop right by the door.

I jumped toward the door as well. "That's enough," I hissed, "and besides, it's for me."

I pushed him to the side as he hurriedly hid his wings under his sweatshirt, plastered a smile across my face, and wrenched the door open. "Hey, J.J.," I said casually.

"Hi," she said over her load of posterboard, colored pencils, and her English binder.

I led her to the kitchen table, where she dumped all her stuff. She was in project-mode immediately. "So I was thinking we'd put the poem in the middle..."

"What poem are you doing?" Angel asked. I looked up. She, Nudge and the Gasman all stood in the doorway. Iggy leaned against the wall a little farther away, trying to look uninterested, but obviously listening intently.

"Jabberwocky," I said bluntly.

"Jabberwocky?" Nudge repeated, her face screwed up. "What's that?"

"A poem." Surprise, surprise.

"'T'was brillig, and the slithy toves...'" J. J. muttered as she copied the words onto the poster.

"What's a tove?" Gazzy asked.

"What's brillig?" Nudge interrupted. "It sounds a little like 'boiling.' Does it mean 'boiling'? Like really hot?"

"Those are really weird words," Gazzy commented, reading over J.J.'s shoulder. "What's 'vorpal'?"

I clenched my hands into fists and took a deep breath. "They're words," I growled. I know, I was rocking in the "insightful comments" department today. "Now could you please - "

"That's kind of mean," Angel said, also reading over J.J.'s shoulder, and not paying attention to a word I was saying. She looked up with innocent eyes. "I mean, did he have to kill the Jabberwock? I think it would have been better if he made friends with it and lived in the forest."

"That's a great idea, sweetie," I said in a voice of forced calm. "How about you go and write a better version?" Just go away! Please!

"Oh," said Angel as she picked up on my thoughts. "Right. C'mon, guys, I think I saw F - uh, a bird flying by the pond earlier." Nudge and Gazzy trooped out after her.

J.J. turned to me. "You have an odd family."

I groaned.

**A/N: Kind of reminds me of my own siblings. Well, K will be brought to you by Akira43, hopefully in a timely fashion. And K is for Kleptomaniacal Kangaroos. That'll be an interesting one...**

**Read and Review, my darlings!**


	12. Kleptomaniacal Kangaroos

**Leftover Alphabet Soup**

**A/N: Hello there! Akira here, with the next installment of Leftover Alphabet Soup. Just to avoid any confusion over how the story goes with the title, here's a quick definition:**

**Kleptomaniacal **_**n. An obsessive impulse to steal regardless of economic need**_

**Disclaimer: I don't think JP procrastinates because he's too busy reading Harry Potter fanfiction.**

**K is for: Kleptomaniacal Kangaroos**  
_By Akira43_

The zoo. Meant to provide hours of entertainment and enjoyment, providing an opportunity for people to see exotic animals of all kinds in the comfort of their own city and familiarity of a concrete jungle. Kids especially love the zoo, as they are still young enough to imagine what it would be like to see the animals in their natural environment somewhere half way around the world, giving them a sense of adventure.

Right now the only adventure I wanted to go on was to anywhere _but_ here.

Once again, we found ourselves sneaking into the zoo with a group of schoolchildren, still on the run from Erasers. Or flyboys. Or whatever else it was that was chasing us nowadays. Anyways, in the zoo now.

Cue the nauseous memories, courtesy of whoever thought it was a good idea to display hundreds of animals behind iron bars and missal-proof glass.

Luckily, at this particular zoo, not _all_ animals were behind bars, as we were about to discover.

"Max! Max! They have a place where you can walk with the kangaroos! There's a path, and then there's all sorts of kangaroos around you, and if you're lucky, one may even come up to the path and you can pet it! Can we go Max? Please?!"

Such was the plea from the younger members of the flock that prompted me into agreeing, and soon I found myself on said path, surrounded by said kangaroos.

The flock was having a grand time, completely disregarding the signs reading "Please Stay On Path".

"Gazzy! Get back over here!" I scolded for the umpteenth time, gesturing towards the sign.

"Aw, but Max, we don't _technically_ have to stay on the path. It's just a request—see? The sign says 'please', not that we _have_ to!" he replied without a moment's hesitation.

I rolled my eyes. "Well, even if the sign is only requesting, _I'm_ demanding, so you better get your butt over here or I'll—"

My mouth dropped open mid-sentence. Gazzy, who had been focusing all his attention on pleading with me, looked confused for a moment. Then his eyes grew wide, and he slowly turned to follow my line of sight.

A few yards away from him stood a kangaroo, holding a small ball with a couple of wires sticking out of it.

"Gazzy," I said, trying to stay calm. "Is that kangaroo holding a bomb?"

"Well, er," Gazzy stumbled, just as distraught as I was. "I wouldn't exactly call it a bomb. It's more of a, um, small explosive device."

Iggy, who had been standing a short ways away, immediately picked up on the situation, and muttered a quiet "This isn't going to end well."

My mouth had gone dry. I opened and closed it a few times, trying to find something to say. "Uh, Gazzy? It, uh, it wouldn't happen to be armed, would it?"

Before he could answer, a soft "click" came from the object held by the mischievous kangaroo.

"I think it is, Max," Gazzy said, now frozen in fright.

"Gasman! Take five steps northeast of where you're facing, then rush sideways towards 8 o'clock!"

Without wasting a second, the Gasman followed Iggy's instructions. Moments later there was a loud "oof!" followed by a brief scuffle, with Gazzy emerging victoriously, clutching the stolen bomb.

"Well done Gazzy!" Nudge cried from where she stood next to me.

"Yes!" Iggy shouted, and pumped his fist in victory.

"Gazzy, I think you should disarm it now," Fang said quietly. I looked over at him, and despite his calm voice, his tense posture told me that he was anything _but_ at ease.

"Right!" the Gasman shouted, his excitement still persisting. Half a minute later and the "small explosive device" was back in his pocket, successfully disarmed.

"Well, I'd say that went well," he concluded as he made his way back to where we were standing.

Not even my death glare was able to wipe the grin off his face for the rest of the day.

**A/N: So I realized that we keep forgetting to thank our reviewers (and that I continually forget to reply to reviewers thanking them). Therefore, without further ado,**

**THANK YOU TO ALL OF OUR AMAZING WONDERFUL AWESOME REVIEWERS!!!!!**

**Next up: L is for Luscious Lemons, brought to you courtesy of Ninja C (remember to keep it PG13!)**


	13. Luscious Lemons

**Leftover Alphabet Soup**

***approaches keyboard in shame* Sorry, guys. I got distracted. By something shiny. Also known as A Very Potter Musical. What? You haven't watched it? Why the fuck are you reading this when you could be watching that? GO. NOW.**

**Now that my distraction ploy has worked, no one will be left to read this piece of crud! (But seriously, though. Just go to Youtube and watch it ASAP. Or I'll come after your soul.)**

**Disclaimer: If you don't-own-Max-Ride-but-channel-your-love-through-manipulating-the-characters-and-scenarioes-offered-in-the-books-to-your-own-liking clap your hands!**

L is for: Luscious Lemons  
_By: Ninja C_

Gazzy ran into the living room from one of the hallways in our E-shaped house and flung himself onto my lap.

"Well, hello there," I grunted. A seven-year-old is hardly buoyant when his full weight is thrust upon you at one time. I surreptitiously rubbed my leg and made an exaggerated "OW" face while Gazzy's face was turned.

"Max, I found this in J..." His face suddenly reddened, and he trailed off.

"Gasman, did you go into Jeb's study?" I asked sternly. Knowing that he had no way away from it, Gazzy nodded.

I sighed. Nothing I could really do about it now. I grabbed at the book Gazzy had produced. The title read The Flame and the Flower. I flipped it to look at the back.

"For the flame will surely come,  
And burn, and blacken, and lay bare the hill.  
But with the first sweet breath of spring  
The shy and lovely flower will again show  
Its face among the charred ruins.  
It yields to the searing heat,  
But with its persistent beauty  
Far surpasses and finally tames the flame."

Sounded hokey to me, so I peeled open the pages (but not before sniffing the goop that was keeping them together - it was lemon-flavored candy residue). Almost immediately I slammed shut the book. I found the content to be a bit... ah... mature for a seven-year-old.

"Hey, Gaz," I evaded as my hand searched the coffee table for something - anything - that would supplant the trashy book. "What if we read..." I grabbed what felt like a book, "this?" I held up one of the books in Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events.

Gazzy made a face. "That looks boring. Anyway, I found this, and I want to read it." The lower lip began to poke out, but I averted my eyes.

"Look, Gazzy. I'm not going to read you this book. Deal with it. Capice?"

"But why, Max?"

Keep your cool, Max. Dignity.

I simply got up and walked out. Iggy was in the hall cleaning one of the end tables with lemon-scented cleaner.

"Hey, Ig," I hissed. He looked up. "Do not, under any circumstances, read the Gasman a book entitled The Flame and the Flower. Got it?"

Iggy just looked at me for a while. "I'm blind, Maximum."

I cringed. "Ah. Yeah. Right. ...Later."

He waved sarcastically. And then... from the living room, I heard the word, "Cool."

Oh shit no.

Upon arriving back in the living room, I saw the Gasman on Fang's lap, with a book in his hands.

"Please tell me that's the Lemony book."

Fang smirked. "Oh, it's lemony, all right."

I internally facepalmed.

**Aaaaaaaaaaand this is why i should not be legally allowed to write past nine. (That's when my brain shuts off, for anyone who doesn't know.) FAIL. Please don't hate me. *retreats back into seclusion***

**Akira, it's the chapter you've been waiting for... HAPPY BIRTHDAY, YOU GET M IS FOR MAGICAL MERMAID... MAX! Now GO WATCH A VERY POTTER MUSICAL.**

**C out.**


	14. Magical Mermaid Max

**Leftover Alphabet Soup**

**A/N: I have no excuse. BUT I do have good news. Since Tassel630 and Ninja C are doing NaNoWriMo next month and won't be able to write chapters for LAS, we're going to finish THIS MONTH. Which means approximately ONE CHAPTER A DAY.**

**Isn't that exciting?!**

**Thank you to imagine. life. sweeter (sorry for the spaces; your name kept disappearing otherwise) for recommending this chapter title. You have no idea how much fun this was to write.**

**Disclaimer: Max and the gang are my imaginary friends. No, really. Because imaginary friends can be anyone you want them to be. Therefore, I am not violating any copyright laws. In theory.**

M is for: Magical Mermaid Max  
_By Akira43_

"Hello, Fang."

I looked around myself, trying to find where the mystical voice was coming from in this world of dark, murky green, but there was nothing, not even a shadow.

"Over here, Fang."

Behind me. I spun around as quickly as I could, but still nothing.

"Where?" I started to ask, but I promptly shut my mouth, finding that I was underwater, and could say nothing without inhaling water.

Something brushed against my shoulder. I shivered.

"Don't be afraid, Fang," the voice said again. But I couldn't help it; something had begun pulling on my leg, trying to drag me down, down, down into the dark depths of the water. Kicking my legs I tried to free myself, struggling towards the lighter water that must be the surface.

"Fang."

This time, I almost screamed. Out of nowhere, Max's face had appeared in front of me. Her pitying expression held my gaze as the rest of her body materialized. Only subconscious survival instincts prevented my jaw from dropping and filling my lungs with water.

"You don't have to be afraid, Fang," the Mermaid-Max cooed. "You see, I'm a magical mermaid, and I can just wave my wand and make all of your fears go away."

She did so, but nothing changed. If anything I was even more freaked out than before, because my one chance at escape had disappeared along with any magical powers the Mermaid-Max may have had.

"Oh dear, I've forgotten how to activate the spell. Let's see here," Mermaid-Max mused. "Maybe it was…no, no that's not it. Was it the warts, or, no, perhaps the mushrooms…"

Warts? Mushrooms? What more horror would I have to go through to get out of this wretched place?

"Oh, yes, now I remember!" Mermaid-Max suddenly exclaimed. "The spell can only be activated with a kiss. But we can't do that here. Hmm, I suppose we'll just have to go somewhere else."

A split second later I was free at last, soaring through the air with my perfect, beautiful, magical mermaid. The sky was blue, the clouds were big, white, and fluffy, and the temperature was perfect for flying. After a few minutes of joyful flight Max looked down at me, grinning. "Are you ready for the kiss that will activate the spell?" she asked.

It was all I could do to nod. Finally, after so long, I would be able to kiss the one person I loved most in this world. We flew gradually towards each other, and I was only a few feet away from her loving embrace when suddenly—

"CANONBALL!"

With a huge splash I was flipped off of the tube I had been floating on in Anne's pond. Sputtering from the face-full of water I had just received, I frantically tried to figure out what just happened. The Gasman's cackling from nearby soon cleared up my confusion.

"Did you see that, Fang? Wasn't it _awesome_? Do you think it was a ten?" he exclaimed, looking at me expectantly.

"Uh, yeah, definitely a ten," I mumbled, still trying to get my bearings.

"Awesome! Did you see that, Iggy? I bet you can't do one better than mine!"

"Yes, of course I saw it, Gasman. Because water is _definitely_ the only element I can see," I vaguely heard Iggy reply from afar.

"You probably deserved that, you know. Falling asleep when you're supposed to be watching the kids...I don't know what I should do with you."

Max, the real, non-mermaid, non-magical Max was grinning at me from the shore, her delicate wings spread out behind her, glinting in the sunlight. And at that moment, I didn't care that she was making fun at me. I didn't care that I had just been rudely awakened from a perfect dream. All that I cared about was that Max, My Max, the one who rarely allowed herself to relax, had finally found peace from our stressful lives.

With me.

Right here.

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Remember to stay tuned as we blast through the remainder of this collection of one-shots. Next up: Tassel630 with Nevertheless.**

**Much love to our reviewers, and to everyone who takes the time to read our silly little whims of thought. Don't forget that you can still suggest chapter titles--just make sure any suggestions are for O or later (since N has already been set).**


	15. Nevertheless

**Leftover Alphabet Soup**

**A/N: AAH, I'M SORRY, WORLD! I FORGOT!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned MR, the sixth book would already be out and we wouldn't all be wondering what the cover means.**

N is for: Nevertheless  
_By Tassel630_

We were there again. You know what I'm talking about. One Of Those Times, where we're among the general public and have to pretend to be normal, but they still get suspicious. Whenever One Of Those Times comes around, they always seem to call the same people on us. I mean, okay, we're weird, but they don't have any proof that we're dangerous - is the FBI entirely necessary?

Anyway. It was One Of Those Times, and that always means that we end up in enclosed little white rooms, two-way mirror optional, with an FBI agent each and questions flying like arrows. Good thing we can fly faster.

"You are aware that the six of you raise immediate suspicions because you match the descriptions of six unidentified children who are considered potentially dangerous," said Agent Whatever-Number-They've-Gotten-To-Now. I checked his name tag. It said "Jared Miller". Geez, whatever happened to good ol' mysterious Agent X?

"Uh, sure," I said, putting on my best "Dangerous? Me?" face.

"Can you tell me what you were doing on private property carrying several thousands of dollars recently withdrawn from a long-dormant bank account?" _Well, you see, sir, taking flight in the middle of a crowded city seems to cause alarm, for whatever reason -_

"My mom asked me to withdraw the money for her." That was true - she was using it to organize a rally. "We got lost." Not quite as true.

"What's your name?" asked me. _Because I'll definitely tell you that. _Around me, I could hear the rest of my flock getting variations of the same question.

"Max," I answered, like I always did. The FBI guy scribbled it down dutifully.

"Celeste," I heard Angel say sweetly. "My bear's name is Angel."

"Joe," said Fang. Guess he wasn't feeling creative.

"Maria Rose Jennifer Star Rainbow the Lovely," was Nudge's answer. Her Agent's eyebrows went up.

"Velociraptotankgodzillasaurus," the Gasman said slowly, obviously making the word up as he went. His agent started scribbling it down, but before he got too far, looked back up and asked him to repeat it.

"Lester," said Iggy, "But my friends call me The Les."

"Really?" his interviewer commented absentmindedly as she scribbled it down.

"Yep. So then, when I get dragged to things like this, I can call them to vouch for me. And then when you guys say I did something, they'll say, 'Never the Les!"

"You really put some effort into thinking these through, don't you?" I sighed, but I couldn't help but be amused.

"Always," Iggy laughed.

**A/N: Geez, Akira, that was a really hard prompt. It's not even a noun! ...Hence the bad puns. Hurrah.**

**Also, I'm sure any FBI agents as clueless as mine would be fired quickly.**

**And Ninja C will happily provide you with more entertainment in O is for Overzealous Orangutans.**


	16. Overzealous Orangutans

**Leftover Alphabet Soup**

**A/N: JEEZ, TASSEL. Way to keep me waiting for my prompt.**

**Disclaimer: If I were JP, I wouldn't need to do NaNoWriMo. Anyone else out there participating?**

O is for: Overzealous Orangutans  
_By: Ninja C_

Borneo. We were in freakin' _Borneo_. Why? Because Gazzy had gotten smart all of a sudden and remembered Fang's once-forgotten plan to find ourselves an island and settle down. So we had hitched a few currents and were now… in BORNEO. This made no sense to me, as Borneo is the third largest island in the world, and completely inhabited by –

"Check it out!" Gazzy yelled as he came crashing through the trees. We heard him a mile off. I didn't move from my place facedown in the grass. I couldn't. I felt too… calm.

Well, that couldn't last long, now could it?

"Look who wandered near the lake!" Gazzy hollered.

"We're right here, Gaz, jeez!" Nudge snapped, wincing. She'd been dismayed to find no McDonald's within a hundred-mile radius, and was feeling a bit peckish. Can't say I blamed her.

I looked up from where I lay to find a wrinkly, orange little face five inches from mine. Not to say my face is wrinkly, though it is getting a little tan from – ANYWAY.

"AAH!" I yelped, propelling myself backward with a furious flap of my wings.

"What is it?" Angel asked, grabbing the ape's little hand.

"It's a baby orangutang!" Gazzy exuberated.

"Orangu_tan_, Gasman," Fang corrected.

Gazzy scoffed. "Whatever. I found it by the lake, see? See it?"

"Yes, Gasser, we see it," I replied testily. I didn't like this. I didn't like this at all. What if it was missed by the local orangutan clan or something?

"Let's play with it!" Nudge squealed. "Aww, look, it's so cuuuuute! I'm glad this isn't the kind of monkey that has the big red butts, otherwise I don't…"

I tuned out, noticing something no one else seemed to have done. "Anyone seen Iggy?" I asked the flock at large. They all looked around the clearing, bewildered.

"Oh, he's right…" Gaz trailed off. "Well, he _was_ with me at the lake. I could've _sworn_ he was right behind - "

"RUUUUUUUUUN!!!!!"

We all snapped into battle mode, preparing for the worst. Iggy beat feet out of the trees – why didn't he just _fly_, the dunce? – and right behind him was what I could only assume to be Junior here's mother. None of us moved. We were that weirded out.

Finally, Fang leaped into the air, grabbing my arm. I snapped out of it, yelled, "Iggy, up!" and rose with the rest of the gang.

Mommy Monstrous jumped up and down, trying to get at our feet, making sounds that I _really_ hoped I'd never hear again. "GASMAN!" I screeched in panic. "WHERE'S THE BABY?!?!"

Gaz was still holding him. Well, at least he wouldn't be trampled by his mother. The Gasman held the baby out to me. "Don't give it to _me_, weirdo! Give it to _her!_" I pointed down for emphasis.

"Ohh… but… he's so - " Gasman tried to protest.

"GIVE IT BACK, GASMAN!" the whole flock screamed in unison.

Gazzy put on a hurt face. "Okay, okay, _jeez!_" He darted over to a small tree and put the baby orangutan in one of the highest branches. Murderous Mom gave up her fight for some of our toes and scrambled up the tree to get to her child.

There was a pause. I turned to Fang.

"Let's not live here, 'kay?"

The rest of the flock all shook their heads numbly.

**A/N: I grew so fond of the baby orangutan during these five minutes of frantic typing that I gave him a name. It's Tangosaurus Snoopy Darcy. I'm pretty sure only Akira and Tassel will understand this.**

**Akira… (I'm going to be killed this weekend, aren't I?)… you get… *snicker* Pretty Pretty Princess. *combusts from trying to hold in laughter***

**OFF TO DO MY HOMEWORK! But before I go, I want to say thank you so much, readers, for sticking with us. After a few… **_**hitches**_**… *glares at Akira and Tassel* we've made it through this troubling time in our lives and have come back to you.**

…**Of course, we'll be leaving you again on Saturday to see Where the Wild Things Are. I'M SO EXCITED!!!!! …Okay, I'm done now.**


	17. Pretty Pretty Princess

**Leftover Alphabet Soup**

**A/N: For those of you who don't know the game Pretty Pretty Princess, you can view the instructions (from Hasbro) at:**

**www****. hasbro. ****com/common/instruct/PrettyPrettyPrincess(1995).PDF (minus the spaces).**

**(I couldn't get the hyperlink code to work, so if anyone knows the trick on how to make it work, please send me a PM. I'm desperately curious)**

**Disclaimer: I claim no rights to the game "Pretty Pretty Princess," which is copyrighted by Hasbro. All I have is fond memories of playing the game countless times when I was young.**

P is for: Pretty Pretty Princess  
_By Akira43_

Selections From the Transcript of a Rousing Game of Pretty Pretty Princess

"Don't give Iggy pink, Gazzy! And Fang, stop encouraging him!"

-----

"Nudge, just because you chose to start on the crown space doesn't mean that you can just take the crown before the game even starts!"

_-----_

"Don't give me that look, Angel, I know that crown isn't really just stuck in your curls. Take it off, and give it to Fang."

-----

"This bracelet is too big for my wrist! Wait, this is the necklace? Oh. Never mind."

_-----_

"The blue ring, Nudge. Not the black one that you're trying to get rid of."

"I don't know what you're talking about. This ring is as blue as the sky on a perfect day."

"Uh-huh. And I'm as deaf as a doorknob."

"Who says doorknobs can't hear? And what does that have to do with anything?

"Nudge. You didn't even _try_ to make it sound as if you were digging around the jewlery box for my ring."

"Um, it was right on top?"

"Nice try."

-----

"Gazzy, they're called 'earrings' for a reason. They go on your ears, not your nose."

_-----_

"Fang, the Pretty Pretty Princess. I wish I could see this!"

"I am not a princess. I am a king."

"Yeah, the king of dress up!"

"You have five seconds. I recommend you start running now."

"Aw come on, can't you take a joke?"

"10...9..."

"I was only kidding!"

"...8...7...6..."

"Uh, Fang?"

"...5...4..."

"I take that as a no?"

"...3...2...1...0."

"He's gone."

"I know."

"Aren't you going to go after him?"

"I figured I'd let him sweat it out for a while, then put whipped cream on his face while he's asleep."

"I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that."

"Thank you, Max. That's a very wise decision. Who knows what would happen if you sent me to my room?"

"Don't push it."

-----

"You know Max, I think Fang was genuinely proud of himself for winning."

"I think you're right, Nudge. There was just something about that smirk of his..."

"Oh yes, he was definitely quite pleased with himself, especially since it's a game designed for little girls and yet he still managed to kick all of our a-"

"ANGEL!"

"I wasn't the one who thought that word so don't blame me for his poor language."

"...Remind me to talk to him later."

**A/N: So there you have it. Bits and pieces of when the Flock played Pretty Pretty Princess.**

**Ninja C and Tassel630 are both ridiculously forgetful, so apparently it has fallen to me to credit Flower K. Owl for the chapter title for O. Thank you, and sorry we haven't credited you sooner.**

**And yes, we are one day behind our goal of finishing before the end of the month. We'll get caught up soon. Promise.**

**Thank you to everyone who has continued to read and review. Remember, we're still looking for chapter titles. We currently need suggestions for S onward.**


	18. Quotable Quidnuncs

**Leftover Alphabet Soup**

**A/N: Note – this is addressed to Tassel.**

**YOU MADE ME LAST CHAIR, YOU WHORE! (But I hope you feel better. 3)**

**I had a concert tonight, so that's why this is coming so late. If Akira posts in a timely fashion, that is. And speaking of Akira… YOU THOUGHT I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT A QUIDNUNC IS, DIDN'T YOU?! Well, HA HA, suckah! I know. And I knew back when Allayna passed on your message. So there. *sticks out tongue***

**Sorry. I'm still a little giddy from Beethoven's Fifth.**

**Disclaimer: Once upon a time, Ninja C found out that she owned Max Ride and everything affiliated with it. Then she woke up. And she cried.**

Q is for: Quotable Quidnuncs  
_By: Ninja C_

Nudge was sitting at the table with a magazine.

"Gimme that," I instructed in my usual gentle and loving tone as I snatched it from her.

"Hey!" Nudge protested, scrabbling to get the magazine back. I held it out as far as my arm would reach, fending off her lunges with my other arm.

"_National Celeb?_" I read the title of the tabloid in an oh-so-fascinated tone. I proceeded to the featured stories. "'Britney and Andy separating?' Oh, no! 'Is Jen getting too thin?' 'Fourteen ways to get those svelte curves you've always dreamed of!' 'The Fashion Police take on L.A!' Why do you read this crap, Nudge?" I asked incredulously. "I mean, I've always known you were one for the news, but tabloids? Really?"

Nudge gave me her most defiant look. "Well, if I want to look… suh-vell-tee, you have no right to judge me, Max! So what if I want some guy to look at me like Fa- they look at you?"

"Nudge, you're being over – wait, back up," I faltered. "Were you about to say 'Fang' just then?"

"Er," Nudge tried to cover. "What about 'Who Wore It Better?' I think it was Erin; Nicole just looked trampy."

"Wait, _WHAT?_" someone yelled down the hall. Fast footsteps began sounding down the hall.

"_Nudge_," I pressed. "Seriously. Were you just insinuating that Fang looks at - "

"Let me see that!" Iggy bellowed as he charged into the kitchen and abducted the magazine from me. He flipped frantically until he reached his page. "Nicole looks like an _angel_, you biased little heathen!" he yelled, rolling up the tabloid and smacking Nudge across the back of the head with it.

"I dunno, Ig-meister," Fang said, announcing his entrance. He strolled across the room nonchalantly until he was next to my chair, opposite Iggy. "I'm with Nudge on this one. Erin wore it better."

"No, it was definitely Nicole."

"Nope, Erin."

"Nicole."

"Erin."

"NICOLE."

"ERIN!"

Nudge and I watched the exchange like a tennis match, marveling at how this was actually happening in our kitchen, with our fourteen-year-old boys. It was rather amusing, really.

Until Iggy shot out his fist and got Fang in the mouth.

"NICOLE WORE THE PRADA BETTER, YOU BASTARD!" With that, he fled from the room. Fang, fuming, ran after him.

I turned to Nudge. "You know, if that happens every time someone discusses who wore an outfit better, they should really stop making two of the same one."

She nodded in agreement.

**Tomorrow (if she's not still on her deathbed), Tassel will bring to you Red Rover. I am just picturing this in my head right now, and I must say, you can be pretty evil with this prompt.**

**(From Akira: We're caught up! I got this moments after the last chapter was posted, so disregard the part of the AN that said we're behind)**


	19. Red Rover

**Leftover Alphabet Soup**

**A/N: We (I) procrastinated 'till the end of the month. And you know what that means?**

**MARATHON!**

**Disclaimer: NANOWRIMONANOWRIMONANOWRIMO**

R is for: Red Rover  
_By Tassel630_

"Gasman."

"But he's so violent – call Iggy."

"Yes, because Iggy's not violent at all."

"We could always call Max."

"That's a good idea."

"Ironically enough, Iggy is less blindly violent than Gazzy. Pun intended."

"But Gazzy's smaller."

"Fine then. Gazzy."

Fang, Nudge, and Angel broke their huddle and spread into a line, forming an impenetrable wall, timing their wingbeats so they wouldn't knock each other from the sky.

"Red Rover, Red Rover, send Gasman on over!"

The Gasman's eyebrows furrowed in determination as he broke away from Max and Iggy, gathering speed. He aimed himself for the junction between Fang and Nudge, who were still carefully coordinating their wings so as not to get tangled together. Gazzy rolled one shoulder foreward, barreling toward them -

WHAM!

The connection held, but Gazzy kept driving forward, dragging Nudge and Fang, who refused to release hands, with him.

"Gazzy! You didn't break it, now stop trying to kill us!"

Looking disappointed, Gazzy extricated himself from Nudges wings, and she managed to right herself before falling dangerously far.

Without conference, Max and Iggy called, "Red Rover, Red Rover, send Fang on over!"

Expressionless, Fang launched himself toward them in one smooth motion. Max and Iggy grimaced in anticipation, both hands going white from sqeezing so tightly -

Fang didn't break their grip. When the flock had discovered Red Rover, they had agreed to keep a short distance between the two lines to prevent anyone building up much speed, in order to prevent broken arms. Fang's face remained expressionless, but Max looked a tiny bit smug.

After a brief argument, the younger three called for Iggy. He smirked slightly before shooting toward them, and barreling straight into Gazzy.

"Iggy, you moron!" the Gasman screamed as they tumbled downward, tangled together. Max and Fang swooped over and caught them before they got too close to the ground, but their wings were too thoughroughly tied up to separate them without landing. The rest of the flock followed, spiraling downward and listening to Gazzy and Iggy's argument, which was quickly escalating into some sort of fistfight/screaming match hybrid.

"Not fair!" the Gasman was shouting as he tried to tug his wings free. "You hit me on purpose!"

"I'm blind, Gaz, can you blame me?"

Max shot him a look. "Don't give me that. We know perfectly well that you can tell exactly where we are just from our wingbeats."

Iggy's face showed a strange mixture of guilt and smugness.

They all tucked their wings under their sweatshirts for the walk through town that was required to get back to the forest that was their temporary home. They had been nesting there -pun intended – each night while they were waiting for their next suggestion from Max's mom.

When they crossed a street close to the center of the town, however, they encountered a small crowd of people gathered on a sidewalk, shading their eyes and squinting into the sky.

"What are we all looking at?" Max asked a blond girl who appeared to be about 19.

"There was this group of birds attacking each other or something – it was so bizarre, I've never seen anything like it."

"Uh, right," Max said, exchanging glances with Fang and pushing through the group. "Well, you guys tell us if they come back." The flock hurried away, the distant trees coming into view.

Fang muttered to Max, "Do you notice that all of the Gasman's games seem to turn into fistfights? Though, admittedly, this is the first one that has been noticed by the public."

"Hey, guys!" Gazzy shouted from behind them. "Wanna play Crack the Whip?"

**A/N: If anyone wants to know, Crack the Whip is a children's game that is actually sort of dangerous. Everyone forms a line and starts to run in a circle, sort of like one big spoke on a wheel. As they pick up speed, the inside person is, of course, making tiny little circles, but the outside-most person is moving much faster, and it gets to the point where they're just being dragged along. That person will eventually fly off the line – the cracking of the whip – and, depending on the game, they can actually get seriously injured. I read about the game... somewhere. Whatever.**

**So... I felt like this was really boring. Hopefully Akira can do better, because she'll be bringing you Snow Storm, or possibly Snowstorm, whichever she feels like doing.**


	20. Snowstorm

**Leftover Alphabet Soup**

**A/N: Akira here. And I'm too tired to say anything, really, so let's just move right on to the story.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned MaxRide, I wouldn't have to worry about possibly finding a job while doing NaNo.**

S is for: Snowstorm  
_By Akira43_

Stuck in the middle of who-knows-where on the only continent where there's absolutely _nothing_.

In the middle of a snowstorm.

Freezing our behinds off.

Not the best situation to be in.

"Max, can you maybe tell us a story?" Angel asked sweetly.

"Um, yeah, I guess," I consented. "Let me think for a moment first."

"I've got one, Angel," Iggy piped up. "Wanna hear it?"

"Sure, Iggy, I'd love to."

"Okay then. Here it goes:

"Once upon a time there was a penguin named Slippy. Slippy was a very adventurous penguin, and always loved to go exploring.

"'Don't forget to come home if it looks like it's going to snow, Slippy,' his mother always told him.

"But Slippy was having so much fun building snowforts and making snowpenguins that he didn't notice that the snow clouds had come.

"Soon, he was lost in a world of swirling white. Slippy was very afraid. Then he remembered that he could protect himself from the wind in his snowfort.

"Slippy stayed in his snowfort for days and days, waiting for the snowstorm to be over, or for someone to come and find him. But no one ever came.

"Years later, two young penguins were outside digging for treasure. One of their shovels hit something hard. 'Hey! I think I just found a treasure chest!' one of the young penguins cried.

"But when they uncovered the object, it wasn't a treasure chest. It was Slippy, dead, yet still perfectly perserved by the cold.

"Neither of the two young penguins built a fort ever again."

The wind howled from outside our little den, unescessarily adding an eerie effect to the story.

"Iggy?"

"Yes, Max?"

"I forbid you to tell any more stories. Ever."

**A/N:** **Ta-da! I have no idea where that story came from, but there you have it.**

**Stay tuned for more updates throughout the day, and as always, thank you to all of our readers and reviewers!**

**Happy Halloween!**


	21. Tattletale

**Leftover Alphabet Soup**

**A/N: Hooray writing marathons. If this doesn't prepare us for NaNo, I don't know what will.**

**Oh yeah, I meant to put this at the beginning of R: I actually have a legitimate excuse for being so late. I had swine flu. No, really, I actually did. But I didn't die (obviously), and no one in my family died, even though we all got it, so it's all okay.**

**Disclaimer: I refuse.**

T is for: Tattletale  
_By Tassel630_

"MAAAAAAAAAX!"

I groaned. "What did he do now, Angel?" I shouted down the hallway.

"GAZZY PUT CHILI IN MY BED!"

I walked into Angel's room, and then was strongly compelled to walk right back out. The Gasman hadn't just put chili in Angel's bed. The Gasman had entirely _drowned all of her worldly possessions_ in chili. Every stuffed animal, every cozy blanket and gauzy curtain of Angel's corner, was covered in it. Angel stood ankle-deep in the middle of it all, wailing.

I kind of wanted to join her wailing, because it was a mess. But that's not what a leader does, so instead I waded over to her and picked her up. She started sniffling and wiping her eyes as I carried her to the kitchen, already containing herself.

I set her on the counter next to the sink and started peeling her chili-bloated socks off of her feet. "It's okay, Angel, he's going to have to clean it all up himself. I'll make sure everything is spick and span."

She nodded morosely, still sniffling.

I left her to wash her own feet – three is old enough for that, right? – and went Gasman-hunting. He was sitting on his windowsill, dangling his legs out of the open window. I guess a normal child wouldn't be allowed to perch so precariously in a window suspended above a steep gorge, but'cha know – the wings thing sort of eliminates the fear of falling.

"Gazzy."

He jumped, banged his head on the bottom of the open window, and nearly fell out. I caught him by the back of his jacket.

"I hope you're prepared for some serious cleaning, my friend. Angel is sleeping in her own bed tonight, and I expect it to be entirely chili-free, as well as complete with all of her possessions, also free of any sort of food, slime, or explosive. You have five hours. Go."

He looked up at me innocently for a moment, trying to persuade me to change my mind with his wide blue eyes. It was lucky he gave up when he did, because I almost gave in and agreed to help, but then his face crumpled into irritation and he slouched out without a word.

--------------------

"MAAAAAAAAAAAX!"

"What now, Angel?"

"There are cornea-floaties in the bathtub!"

"…cornea-floaties?"

"Yeah, you know the long skinny floaty things you get in your eyes when you look at something white? Actually, these look a little like tapeworms."

THAT made me anxious. I burst into the bathroom to find Angel wrapped in a towel, pointing at a bathtub filled with spaghetti. Well, at least it wasn't tapeworms. Come to think of it, I wasn't sure how Angel had gotten to the age of three and gained knowledge of both corneas and tapeworms, but she didn't recognize spaghetti. Perhaps we ought to watch the Food Network more often.

Anyway.

"Gas-MAN!" I shouted to the house in general. He came running up the hallway from his room so immediately that I half-expected him to jump to salute.

"Care to explain this?" I asked, pointing at the bathtub.

He looked at it for a moment. "Maybe the drain was hungry," he suggested, smiling weakly.

I wasn't amused. "Alright, Gasman, I'm done. I'm sick of you pulling all of these pranks on Angel! I'm okay with an occasional joke, but this is ridiculous, and targeting _only_ your little sister is unacceptable! Honestly, this is the ninth time this week, and it's only Wednesday! I swear, if I hear my name being screamed through this house in that elongated, accusatory manner because you put cockroaches in Angel's underwear or something, I will build a freaking labyrinth under this house, kick your skinny butt into it, and you can fight the Minotaur!" He probably had never heard of the Minotaur, but that was okay. It sounded threatening.

He looked threatened. Actually, he looked a little bit like he might collapse into a puddle of quivering goo. The kid was only five.

"I was just doing it to get back at her because she keeps tattling on me!" he wailed.

I kneeled down to his height. "Gazzy, don't you think that if you stopped _pranking_ her, she'd stop _tattling_?"

He blinked. "Oh – well, yeah. I mean, I guess that would work."

I shook my head and ruffled his hair. "Alright, just don't do it again. And do something with all this spaghetti."

--------------------

"MAAAAAAAX!"

I slammed my book shut. "GASMAN!" I roared, crashing into Angel's room in rage.

"I didn't do it!" he screamed, running in after me.

I looked around at Angel, who was sitting serenely on her bed. "What did he do now?"

She smiled sweetly. "Oh, he didn't actually do anything this time. I just wanted to hear what his punishment would be."

**A/N: Ninja C, you have Ultimate Unicorns. You threw it at us during that m'n'm… thingy we had, and now I'm throwing it back at you. Ha.**


	22. Ultimate Unicorns

**Leftover Alphabet Soup**

**A/N: LET'S GET IT ON!!!**

**Disclaimer: My mom won't stop harping about my sweatshirts. Maybe if I was James Patterson I'd have a house, where she'd never be able to find me EVER.**

U is for: Ultimate Unicorns  
_By Ninja C_

"MAAAAAAAAAX!"

Ah, peace. Why do you evade me?

Angel skittered into the room, pointing an accusing finger behind her. I prepared my eardrums.

"Max, Iggy says _unicorns aren't real!!!_" (Imagine four more exclamation points behind those, and you'll understand my physical anguish whenever Angel decides to be anything but.)

I almost yelled for Iggy to get his sorry butt into the living room, until I saw _that look_. That look that Angel gets when she's picking a fight. Now fights, as you may infer, are a bit more theatrical in this family than is the case with most others, so I had to find a way, _any_ way, to avert one.

"Now, Angel," I implored, getting down to her eye level, "this is something that you had to find out soon enough. And I think four is a perfectly good age to - "

"_No_," Angel mandated. "I'm _five_."

"Five or not," Iggy put in, sauntering past the door, "unicorns still aren't real."

Nudge, sitting on the couch, wearing, _of course_, her favorite unicorn tee-shirt, looked sharply at Iggy.

"_Iggy!_ Did you just tell Angel that unicorns aren't real?!" she demanded. Without waiting for an answer (when does she?), Nudge came over to Angel, whose eyes were glistening now with the horrid news. "Sweetie, unicorns are real! If you just believe, anything can be real! Wait – no – that's not what I… Unicorns rock! See?" Nudge pulled out her shirt, proffering it for Angel to observe.

I hopped up onto the couch between Gazzy and Fang, waiting for Nudge to get her foot out of her mouth. Fang got up and left, and the cushion shifted so I fell headfirst into Gazzy's lap. I was jostled again by Gazzy's snort of contemptuous laughter. I momentarily wondered if Gazzy knew he was being "contemptuous", and then decided I didn't care.

"Angel," Gasman began, shaking his head condescendingly, as if a six-year-old had that kind of experience. "Everyone knows that unicorns were left off the Ark for a reason!"

At which point Angel promptly began to cry.

I glared up at the Gasman from his lap. He took the defensive.

"What? I thought it was funny! I heard it from Ig – oh, wait." Comprehension dawned in his eyes. I raised my eyebrows, as if to say, _You think?_

Of course, Mommy Max was triggered by Angel's crying, so I rushed back over to her, a tiny bit of me feeling pitiful for being so weak but most of me just wanting her to stop crying. "Angel, honey," I wheedled, taking her into my lap. "You know what I'm going to do? I'm going to make you some nice hot chocolate, and we'll read a story, and then I'll get back at these mean, horrid boys by finding solid proof that unicorns _are_ real! How does that sound?"

Internally, I smacked myself. Where was I going to find evidence of the existence of unicorns?

Iggy scoffed. "Where're you going to find evidence of the existence – "

"NEEEEIIIIIGHHH!"

Iggy turned. "What was _that?_"

But none of us could answer. We were too busy staring at a thoroughbred-sized, purple unicorn.

The unicorn bent its head, and I mindlessly put Angel on its back. The unicorn and Angel trotted off, Angel sticking her tongue out at Iggy, which was kind of ineffective, but still. It's the thought that counts.

"Hey, where's Gasman?" Nudge asked, turning the TV back on.

The unicorn farted.

**A/N: Also, I feel stupid. For Q, we got a lot of reviews talking about how Iggy's blind and wouldn't be able to see either Nicole **_**or**_** Erin in **_**National Celeb**_** magazine. And I spent a while coming up with a theory for how he could do that, and then forgot to put it in my A/N. I've been mutilating myself over my own stupidity for quite some time now.**

**So here goes. Iggy can feel colors, right? So if he ran his hand over the whole picture, he could see all the colors, and where they're located. It's like reading Braille. He'd be able to construct a true image in his mind by feeling the whole picture and focusing really hard. I could swear I had a conversation with either Tassel or Akira about this. But then I forgot to put it in my fic. So, hope that cleared things up.**

**Next up shall be V is for Voyage, for Tassel. HAVE A WONDERFUL HALLOWEEN!**


	23. Voyage

**Leftover Alphabet Soup**

**A/N: There's probably no one there to read this, because you're all trick-or-treating. Ninja C and I just went in a shift, and now we're coming back and writing more, and then we're going out again. And all her neighbors are weirded out, because I've been speaking French (in which I am semi-fluent) the whole time to stay in-character. (I'm Christine to Ninja C's Phantom. It's pretty awesome.)**

**Anyway.**

**Disclaimer: Does James Patterson still trick-or-treat despite his age? Yeah, I didn't think so.**

V is for: Voyage  
_By Tassel630_

I don't like underground. Everyone knows this.

Obviously I like the air. I can deal with the ground when I have to. I'm even less adverse to water now that I know I can't drown.

But I don't do underground.

Of course, then, when we discover this dark, imposing, _underground_ tunnel, the others outvote me and we follow it.

I mean, really guys. Obviously we will never live normal lives, but it seems a bit overkill to seek trouble like this. Underground never ends well.

"Ninty-nine bottles of – "

"NO!" I bellow, then look around nervously to make sure I haven't caused a cave-in. Even Fang shoots me an annoyed look – he doesn't like underground either.

Well, maybe he should have _thought_ of that before he voted in favor of exploration!

The tunnel is arrow-straight, but we've soon followed it far enough for the light to disappear behind us. I'm not afraid of the dark. But this was _underground_ dark – the creepy kind, where hundreds of feet of suffocating dirt are crushed on top of you, between you and light –

No. Bad Max. Don't think of how far away the light is, how if the tunnel collapsed we would all suffocate –

Argh! I can't do this, I can't do this, I have to get out –

"I see light!"

I practically sprint for it, the others close behind. The tunnel opens into an enormous, majestic cavern, and earth has fallen from the top and blessed _light _shines through.

Once I manage to control some aspect of my panic, I begin to realize that someone got really theatric with this cave. It's ringed with pillars, complete with intricate carvings of vines twining up and down them. In the center, resting in the beam of light allowed by the hole above, was a large stone chest. More ornate carvings adorned its surface. The stone lid had been slid back, and we hurried up to it in anticipation.

It was empty.

I woke up grumbling. _If I was ever psychoanalyzed, I'm sure that means something extremely sinister._

**A/N: Yay! And now back to being Christine!**

**W goes to Akira43, for Whisk Wars! I'm sure Iggy will have fun…**


	24. Whisk Wars

**Leftover Alphabet Soup**

**A/N: POSTING CHAPTERS APPROXIMATELY EVERY 15 MINUTES!!!!!!**

**Disclaimer: I don't believe James Patterson uploads individual chapters to a website as he writes them.**

W is for: Whisk Wars  
_By Akira43_

"GET YOUR BUTTOCKS OUT OF BED AND INTO THE KITCHEN! IT'S PANCAKE DAY!!!!!"

This is how every Saturday morning started. Why Iggy chose Saturday to rudely wake us up at the crack of dawn so we could eat pancakes, I have no idea. But he did. And believe me when I say that when Iggy tells you to get up, you better get up fast, before he decides to resort to "drastic measures".

This Saturday morning I was feeling particularly cranky. Last night Nudge had decided that Fang had to learn how to walk in high heels. Needless to say, it didn't turn out well, and I got to spend hours cleaning up the disaster zone afterwards.

I decided that I would take my chances this morning, and rolled over for a few more minutes of sleep. Wonderful, glorious sleep. Oh, how I love thee, bringer of dreams!

"MAXIMUM, IF YOU DON'T GET OUT HERE THIS INSTANT I'M GOING TO HAVE TO COME IN AND DRAG YOU OUT MYSELF!"

I jerked back awake again. Iggy was stomping furiously down the hallway. I glanced at my clock; apparently I had fallen back asleep. For fifteen whole minutes.

Oh, the horror.

"MAXIMUM RIDE, I DEMAND YOU OPEN YOUR DOOR THIS INSTANT!"

"Iggy, I'm getting dressed!" I protested, hoping to hold him off so I could go back to sleep. Again.

"IF YOU THINK THAT'S GOING TO STOP ME THEN YOU'RE AN IDIOT."

"Fine! If you really want to see me naked..."

"I'M BLIND!"

"So are bats!" Like that makes much sense.

"Iggy, what going on here?"

Crap. Fang.

"Max won't come out of her room, and is likely still burrowed under her covers like the COWARD THAT SHE IS!"

"I'M NOT A COWARD, I'M JUST TIRED!"

"Max, open the door, and come out for breakfast."

And now Fang starts speaking to me as if I were a small child. Now I'm _definitely_ not coming out and giving them the satisfaction of a job-well-done.

"Max, I have a whisk, and if you don't open this door, I'm going to come in and smear pancake batter all over your face."

Okay. This was going too far. Luckily, we each kept a whisk in our room, so I reached under my bed and grabbed mine. After digging around in my closet for a while, I managed to locate the bottle of slime I kept for emergency situations. Such as this one.

With my whisk dripping with slime, I walked towards the door. "Okay guys, I'm coming out now. You can step back."

I turned the handle slowly so they could see that I reallly _was_ coming out, then swung the door open quickly and flung the whisk at them, coating them with slime.

"HA! You two totally deserved that!" I taunted as they made disgusted faces at their spoiled clothes.

Then, out of nowhere, something wet hit me in the face with a huge SPLAT.

I looked up, and there stood Fang, holding the bowl of pancake batter and using his own whisk to fling it at me.

"Oh, this is so a war now. You're on!" I shouted.

The rest of the morning consisted of an epic whisk-battle, with each of the other members of the flock using their own whisks to fling various substances, such as mud and curdled milk.

I'll think about the clean-up later.

**A/N:** **And that is the story of how the flock's most epic whisk war ever came to be.**

**Stay tuned for X is for Xenophobia by Ninja C!**


	25. Xenophobia

**Leftover Alphabet Soup**

**A/N: I may have to leave soon, as it's trick-or-treat time in about seven minutes. OH, WELL!**

**Disclaimer: (me, to Tassel just now) Hey! I feel like James Patterson! We're writing in a serial fashion!**

**(Tassel) We should use that in a disclaimer.**

**There you go, Tassel. Unfortunately, I am being the Phantom of the Opera this year for Halloween, and not one of our favorite authors.**

X is for: Xenophobia  
_By Ninja C_

Rumor has it that Halloween night is great fun for the kids.

Well, that's probably true, if they're normal, unscarred for life, non-mutant, 100% human, 0% bird, kids.

For my compadres and me, it's more of a subdued affair. No trick-or-treating, no haunted houses, just Fang and Iggy putting on grotesque masks to scare the kids when they're off their guard.

Until this year, that is.

"It'll be great, guys!" Gazzy exuded, using exaggerated hand gestures to illustrate his point.

"In what way is exposing ourselves to the world at large 'great'?" I asked incredulously.

"_No,_" Gazzy insisted, in a tone suggesting I was two years old. "It's _Halloween!_ We can let our wings loose and tell everyone that _really smart scientists made them!_ And we won't even be lying, cause really smart, if evil, scientists _did _make them!"

There was a rare silence among the group. "Well," Nudge pondered, "if you put it that way…"

"We can be angels!" Angel offered as an idea. Of course.

Fang and I exchanged a glance. He minutely shrugged, telling me _I don't really mind; it's your call._

The flock looked to me expectantly. I mulled it over. It didn't _really_ pose any threats, I supposed. It was the night of costumes. No one would really believe we were genetic mutants… would they?

"We can go," I conceded, to cheers and a high-five between Iggy and Gazzy. How he always made it, I never understood.

"Let's go!" Iggy yelled, running for the door.

"Wait – don't we need to get ready?" I asked.

Fang raised his eyebrow. "We don't need costumes or anything, Max," he reminded me. We were going to go as angels. _Right._

We walked out the door and looked around at the neighbors milling around for a few minutes. Angel looked at me.

"Max, I don't want to go," she said.

We went back inside to the tune of varied mutterings of "Me neither."

We are such wusses.

**A/N: Yay Halloween theme! Tassel's been freaking out the neighbors by speaking completely French. It amuses me.**

**Akira gets Y is for Yo!**


	26. Yo

**Leftover Alphabet Soup**

**A/N: I left myself exactly 15 minutes to write this. So I'm sorry if it's horrible. Now, onto some Max/Fang fluff, cuz we haven't had it in a while and we're overdue.**

**Disclaimer: Urghhhhhhhhh…I am James Patterson, a reanimated corpse. I will eat your brains!!!!**

Y is for: Yo  
_By Akira43_

After Jeb left, and once we finally admitted to ourselves that he wasn't going to ever come back, we all had a pretty rough time. But I had to shove the part of myself that just wanted to curl up and cry into a small corner in the back of my mind so I could step up and take care of the flock.

During the day, I think I held it together pretty well. With Iggy's help, we made sure that everyone had 3 square meals a day. Fang and Nudge helped do the laundry. Gazzy would stay with Angel at night until they both finally fell asleep.

But it was at night that it was the hardest to keep myself pulled together.

At night, when it was dark outside, and everything was quiet, I couldn't help but start thinking. And when I started thinking, I thought about how I had ended up where I was. How we came to be living in this house. How we met Jeb. Why we met Jeb. And the horrible torture chamber we had come from.

And I cried.

Sometimes, when I was crying, Fang would come and knock on my door. He would knock softly, poke his head around the door, and say "Yo." Then, he'd come and sit beside me on my bed, and let me cry into his shoulder.

No other words were needed.

Just "Yo."

**A/N: That was a shortened and much-improved version of a fic I started eons ago and never finished. The original included lots of dialogue, but I like this version much, much better.**

**Thank you Ninja C for giving me the last sliver I needed to change this from an idea into a story.**

**Next up: Ninja C herself, with Z is for Zephyr.**


	27. Zephyr

**Leftover Alphabet Soup**

**A/N: The neighbors keep telling Tassel and I that it's fine for us to still be trick-or-treating, even though we're sixteen. We actually weren't planning on going until about an hour before it started, when we grabbed my cloak and mask and my grandma's old dress and decided to be the Phantom and Christine. It's like tag-team-trick-or-treating. Hyphens are fun.**

…**No, I don't have a random cloak and half-face-mask lying around… Nope. Not at all.**

**Disclaimer: Yes, James Patterson has stooped so low as to write poor fanfiction about his own books.**

Z is for: Zephyr  
_By Ninja C_

"Hey, Gasman," Fang asked off-handedly. Gazzy turned, still shoveling his potatoes into his mouth.

"Mouth closed, Gasser," I reprimanded.

Gazzy swallowed. "What, Fang?" he asked, pointedly ignoring me.

"When we lived with Anne," Fang began, and all of us tuned in, "why'd you choose the name Zephyr?"

"Actually, I've been wondering that myself," Nudge put in.

The Gasman sighed. "Well," he said, beginning as though what came next would be a great travesty, "I wanted my name to be Zooming

Elephants Probably Hurt Your Rhinos, but Iggy told me that was stupid - "

"Because it is," Iggy interrupted, and I elbowed him.

Gazzy continued, " – and so I shortened it to Zephyr. Much cooler, don't you think?"

Fang grunted noncommittally, and we all went back to our dinner.

**A/N: SNOOZEFEST. I realize that was boring. But it was all I had. You try writing Z is for Zephyr, and see how creative you can get. …Actually, yes, do that, and PM it to me. I'd actually like to see it.**

**Anyway, Unigu Mika's coming over to join Tassel and I for a night of Poe-reading and NaNoWriMo writing. Tassel, Akira, Mika, Allayna, and I are all participating for the first time this year. Wish us luck!**

**Goodbye, good luck, thanks for reading and reviewing. Best wishes! –Ninja C!**


	28. Special Extra 2

**Leftover Alphabet Soup**

**A/N: THIS IS IT.**

**Well, actually, we're doing a trilogy, so it really isn't, but it sounds dramatic, so…**

**THIS IS IT.**

**By the way, Akira, I'm sorting m'n'ms and thinking of you. **

**And also by the way, girlwithwings329, the disclaimer to Chapter 19 was "NaNoWriMo" repeated, which is short for National Novel Writing Month, which begins November 1st and in which all three of your authors are participating. Hence the marathon to finish this before tomorrow.**

**randombookworm, your massive suggestion-review warmed my heart.**

**Disclaimer: I don't know if James Patterson is ever going to finish, so obviously the fact that I said "THIS IS IT" (albeit partially untruthfully) means that I am not he.**

**I PRESENT TO YOU:**

The Quick Brown Fox Jumps Over The Lazy Dog  
_By Tassel630_

"Hey Max?"

I groaned and rolled over. "Nooooo... I'm not ready for morning... tell it to wait..."

"Max, can I talk to you?"

I moaned again and cracked an eye open. Angel bounced anxiously at the foot of my bed. "Oh.... Ummm... what is it, hun?"

"Well, I was just sitting in bed, and I was thinking about that sentence, you know, the one that they made kids write to practice all the letters of the alphabet?

"The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog."

"Yeah. Well, I think whoever made it up was leaving a message for the people of the future."

"Um, okay," I mumbled, still half-asleep.

"Because, well, if you translate it into Spanish, and then anagram it in English, and then take the only ones that make sense and rearrange them, and then interpret what you get, it means something along the lines of, "Cut something if no one dies in the next book you read, because the next time you take a drink it will spill from your mouth, and I urge you to run away. So I was thinking that I read this book Jeb gave us so it totally could've been a plant, and there could be poisoned drink, and so I really think we need to leave and – "

"Angel, I think you're looking a bit too far into this."

She shook her head earnestly, her eyes wide and frightened. "But I really think – "

"Angel. That sentence was invented, like, three hundred years ago by a schoolteacher, who probably had never heard of Spanish, much less anagrams, and certainly was not smart enough to code a message and then make sure the final product includes every letter in the English language to disguise it and make sure it's not forgotten. Everything's fine; go to bed."

She looked at me for a moment in sleep-befuddled confusion. Then she nodded agreeably and went to bed. She didn't remember the conversation at all the next morning.

**A/N: If anyone cares, you really can get that message from the sentence. I'll explain it if you care enough to PM me.**

**The third and final leg of our collab will appear on my (Tassel630) profile.**

**We love you guys.**

**See you in December.**


	29. Closing Remarks

**Leftover Alphabet Soup**

**The second collaborative Maximum Ride fanfic by me, Tassel630, and Ninja C has finally come to a close after an all-night long writing marathon. Just in time for us to start working on NaNoWriMo.**

**Fortunately, the fun is not over yet! There will be a third and final collab posted under Tassel630's name titled One-Letter Stand. Look for it sometime around the beginning of December.**

**This collab is special because it will feature guest authors. If you're interested, send either me or Ninja C a PM, and we'll get back to you. Chapters are available on a first-come, first-serve basis, and will be assigned accordingly.**

**Thank you for following our disjointed ramblings about the flock, for all of your reviews and suggestions, and we hope to see you in December!**

**-Akira43, Tassel630, and Ninja C**


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